


Electric Soul

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9468587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of Saihara and Kiibo oneshots.





	1. 1. scarf

**Author's Note:**

> There might be game spoilers.  
> Here's links to translations for love hotel I'm using:  
> https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lPFXTL_t6Kn1LfjKVFSBsEv4onoh2IMB0JkvDfQ-I8c/mobilebasic
> 
> I'm not a good writer, but I wanted this and it didn't exist. I'm sorry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A present.

"Kiibo? Are you in there?"

He knocks on the door hesitantly, his other hand gripping tight to a thick swath of soft cloth.

"Ah? Saihara! Come in!"

He opens the door to a room... exactly the same as his own with a mild sense of disappointment. While he expected as much, somehow he had still thought a robot's room would be more fantastical. Maybe even something like a laboratory.

Said robot was lying flat in his bed, eyes blank, staring up at the ceiling. The thought came to him if robots slept.

"...are you busy right now?"

Kiibo's eyes light up a brilliant blue but fade as he turns, startled. "Oh! Sorry, Saihara." He looks suddenly sheepish. "I got distracted. I-I was reviewing my recorded footage for suspicious activity!" He sounds defensive. He makes no move to get up.

It's fine.

Instead Saihara walks to the bed, bringing his hand out from behind his back as he nears. "I brought you a gift." It's a bit of a strange thing to give a robot, he thinks as the pale blue fabric spills down from his fingers, but when he had seen it, he had only thought of Kiibo.

For this Kiibo sits up, eyes alight with interest. "What is that?" He reaches out for it, metal fingers brushing the cloth lightly before drawing back, blushing. "Ah... sorry, I shouldn't be grabbing things like that. It's rude, right..." But his eyes don't leave the fabric.

How interesting, he thinks. He smiles gently. "It's okay, Kiibo. It's for you."

He sits down on the bed, close enough that their thighs brush, a faint warmth coming to his face as he does so. It makes him feel strangely bold... somehow, he always feels different around Kiibo. Like he doesn't have to be nervous (but, at the same time, a different kind of nervous). But he doesn't think about it.

They're just very good friends.

"It's a scarf," he explains, ("when I saw it I thought... it would match your eyes,") trailing off and growing red as he realizes what he was going to say and starts to rethink what he's going to say next...

"...do you want me to put it on you?"

"Huh?" Kiibo takes his eyes away from the scarf and looks at him now, an uncertainty clear on his features. Kiibo always broadcasts his feelings so openly, Saihara thinks. It's definitely different.

He likes it.

Kiibo nods.

He leans in, lifts the scarf up and wraps it around slowly, delicately, his eyes catching a glimpse of a slender neck underneath the thick metal collar in his work. Huh. So he does have a neck.

Wait. Did that mean Kiibo was wearing clothes? What did he look like... underneath?

It was kind of weird to think about. It was weird he hadn't thought about it before, either.

"...done." He pulls back to study the result and smiles. "It looks good."

Kiibo burrows into the scarf, his eyes closed in joy. "Thank you so much for getting this for me, Saihara! I love it! I'll have to get you something now!"

"Ahaha, you don't have to do that." But the thought of it makes him smile again.

(It does match his eyes.)


	2. 2. umbrella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small conversation on a rainy day.

It's raining today. Just a light mist.

So they had ended up under an umbrella together, walking back to the dormitory.

Saihara looks at the boy by his side and smiles, a warm feeling flooding his heart. It was strange, wasn't it? That, in a place like this, that this was the kind of person he'd ended up meeting.

(But everyone else here was strange, anyway, so they hardly stood out.)

His staring doesn't go unnoticed, though, and Kiibo's electric blue eyes meet his own. "Eh... Saihara? Why are you looking at me like that?" There's a shyness to his voice, a faint pink tinge to the pale white of his skin. He wonders how that works.

He looks away. "I was just thinking..." He coughs, and now he's blushing, too. Ah. Could he really just say something like this? "...you're really cute, Kiibo."

"Ah!" Kiibo deepens to a brilliant red, but he doesn't look away from Saihara. He's gotten braver, over time. At first, if he said something like that, Kiibo would lock up completely... or run away.

Not like Saihara had been much better. Neither of them were really good with this sort of thing, they had learned. Neither of them had had much experience.

He feels Kiibo's hand reach for his and he catches it, their fingers twining together. Kiibo may be metal to his flesh and blood, but at times like this he's not sure there's even a difference.

"...Saihara."

"Kiibo?"

"I-I!", his grip tightens, nearly shouting the words. "I think you're very attractive, too!"

He slams his facemask up, eyes clenching shut.

They end up like that until the rain stops.

(But he doesn't mind.)


	3. 3. love hotel (cont.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An imaginary continuation of love hotel event.

"Saihara... please kiss me."

He had asked after a long silence, his voice low, pleading. Saihara swallowed thickly, looking everywhere but his face. Their hands stayed clasped together as they sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed.

"T-that's... uhm... I'm not sure I can do that."

It's just a dream and they'll forget about it when they wake up, but he's all too aware right now of the pounding of his heart and the heat on his face and the adoration in the eyes of this boy who had just told him that he loved him.

Not that it was real. He knows what this room does. But... could that sort of thing even affect a robot?

...what if it was affecting him, instead?

"Please-" Kiibo says again, and the sound of it makes his heart keen, but he stops and looks away. "Ah- I'm being pushy again, aren't I? I'm sorry."

"Thank you for all your help, Saihara."

And he moves to pull his hand away, moves to get off the bed- and Saihara reaches out to grab him instead, pulls him nearer. It's automatic, and when Kiibo lets out a little noise of surprise being pulled so close so suddenly all he can do is turn bright red. They both do.

"E-eh?"

"I-I mean, it's kind of troublesome but, if you really want me to, Kiibo...!"

He doesn't know what he's doing, using a line as transparent as that, but it doesn't really matter when it's Kiibo. Now Kiibo looks... curious, Saihara thinks. It's like nothing he's ever seen before.

He pulls his fingers free gently and brings his hand around Kiibo's back, resting it on cool armor.

"But... not the lips, is that okay?"

He gives the smallest nod in response, bringing his hands together, eyes shyly downturned.

"Alright then," Saihara says, mostly to steel himself, having suddenly lost all nerve. What was he even planning to do? He even hadn't thought this far...

...he reaches his other hand up and brushes Kiibo's hair to the side, leans in, and lands a small kiss on the pale, exposed skin.

It's warm.

He pulls back just a little.

He's warm.

And Kiibo may as well be steaming. He's says something, but it's so quiet Saihara can't hear it.

"I can't hear-," he begins, but Kiibo presses up and forward, leaving a small kiss in the hollow of his neck, and he suddenly can't say anything at all.

"I love you, Saihara."


	4. 4. awkward/eating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not romantic, not even friendship.  
> Inspired by this sketch: http://i.imgur.com/tesSbs4.jpg

Today's breakfast is rice, miso soup, and tamago, all briskly prepared by Tojo and set down in front of him without a word as she moves on to serve everyone else.

He thanks her and she nods from down the length of the table.

Eating is an awkward affair.

He'd never thought much about it before. There really hadn't been a need to, but he's become all too familiar in the past few days. Ever since all this happened.

He cuts the egg neatly with a chopstick, lifting it to his lips in a single, practiced movement, overly aware of every muscle he's using, how the tendons in his hands slide under his skin, the light salt smell of the soup wafting up in a faint steam.

It's... so awkward.

"Can you stop staring at me?"

That's what he wants to say, but he doesn't. He doesn't want to be rude. The way everyone else treats the robot... he doesn't want to add to it.

But having someone stare at you silently while you're eating is the worst.

He grits his teeth, closes his eyes. Fine. Fine.

If only he looked away sometime. If only he said something. But all he did was stare, watching everything Saihara did with those strange glass eyes of his. What was he even thinking about? He was a self-conscious sort of person in general, but something like this... it was just too much.

Breakfast, lunch, dinner. And Kiibo always sat next to him, always looked at him.

He has to say something.

He lays his chopsticks across the bowl.

"Why are you always watching me?" It comes off harsher than he intends, irritation creeping up into his words he couldn't stop. Maybe he shouldn't have let it boil for this long.

Kiibo jumps, startled. "I-I'm sorry-!"

...and just like that, he already feels bad.

He wrings his hands. "I can't eat, so, I just wanted to spend time with all of you."

"But why are you watching me?"

"I sit next to you." He states uncomprehendingly.

He supposes it makes sense Kiibo wouldn't understand why something like this would be awkward, but it bothers him. He's not sure how to explain.

"Why don't you ever say anything?"

"I didn't want to bother you," he smiles. "I know eating is a very important activity for humans! I wouldn't want to interrupt."

He's sure he looks incredulous. He... really was like a child. Maybe even worse. He doesn't really want to say it, but maybe it was necessary.

"It's... it's kind of awkward to stare at someone when they're eating, Kiibo."

"But, in the books I've studied, people are always looking at each other when they're eating."

"...what kind of books have you been reading?"

So this was what the SHSL Robot was like... he can already feel a headache coming on.


	5. 5. (not really a) sexuality crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really embarrassing and bad but I'm not going to delete it.

Since Kiibo was a robot, did it matter that Kiibo was also a guy?  
Saihara couldn't help thinking about it as he laid in bed. Sure. It was strange enough he was dating (if it really was dating... he's still not sure, exactly, why he said yes).

(Maybe that was a bad thing, that he wasn't sure.)

(Why did he say yes?)

(He'll go back to that later. He's too busy having a (sexuality crisis) right now.)

(Not that... he's sure it's a sexuality crisis.)

(Since... did it matter if he's a robot? Was he even a guy? Did it even matter if they weren't dating? Are they dating?)

...

He decides to go with them dating for now, since he can't really think about the other question without deciding one way or the other.

So, did it matter?

Was he even attracted to him?

(If you didn't like him at all, why would you say yes?)  
(He'd always been a weak-willed sort of person... it had always been easy to get him to go along with whatever other people wanted. He didn't like to stand out. He didn't like to dissent.)

But. The memory of a hand encircling his rises up in his memory, a warm touch and a shy glance, a faltering voice...

(They only held hands.)  
(But... he liked it.)

He stretches his hand up above his head, fingers splayed out to the ceiling, replaying the memory in his head. A touch of warm metal that felt almost like skin.

He thinks... it doesn't really matter.

He's never dated before... he'd always been an introverted person. He had a hard time making friends. He wasn't a very strong person. He could think of a billion bad things about himself. He'd always faded into the background, never been someone other people really thought of highly...

So, even if other people would think differently of him now, it wouldn't make much of a difference, he thinks.

He might as well be happy.


	6. 6. short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another small conversation.

They're on a couch, some time, some place. It's gotten late. They had been watching movies but now they're just sitting in a comfortable lull by each other's side, taking in the slow dark.

Kiibo listens to the rise and fall of Saihara's breathing. It's the only sound in the room, since he doesn't breathe.

"...I wish you weren't so tall, Saihara."

Kiibo pouts and leans into him as he says it. It's weird, but cute. 

"Why?"

He continues, an obvious unhappiness in his words. "I'm... too short. It's suboptimal." He fiddles with a stray lock of hair self-consciously. "...maybe I could ask the Professor to increase my height?"

Saihara knits his brow. "You're fine, Kiibo. Why would you want to be taller?"

Kiibo always wanted to change things about himself, though he never did. It was one of the things Saihara didn't really like about him.

Though, he supposes if he could do what Kiibo could, he would probably want to, too.

He's silent, but Saihara can feel Kiibo stiffen up next to him.

"Kiibo?"

He wraps his arm around Kiibo's shoulder, hugging the other boy closer to him.

Kiibo turns to stare up at him, irritation clear on his face.

"Eh... Kiibo?"

"I'm too short to kiss you!" He exhales in a puff of anger.

"What?" Saihara laughs in surprise. "Ah... sorry, Kiibo, I didn't mean to." "But you can kiss me just fine."

"It's okay when we're sitting down, but when you're standing up, it doesn't work!" He huffs.

Saihara looks at the other boy, smiling warmly. "I can just kiss you instead."

"That's not what I meant!" He throws his arms up in exasperation, but doesn't manage to pull himself away from Saihara's grasp. He hugs him even closer, laughing at the robot boy's groan.

"...but, if you really do want to change, I'll support you." Like always. It reminds him fondly of their days in school together. "I'd be okay with you no matter what. You know that."

He leans down and kisses the robot boy on the neck, eliciting a blush... and even more anger.

"I know that doesn't really mean anything, Saihara!"


	7. 7. a walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take a walk.

Before they go out, Kiibo hides himself away. He paints white over the lines running down his face, tugs soft leather gloves up over cool metal fingers, carefully fits a hat around his sharp hair and pulls it down low over his eyes.

"I'm not ashamed of being a robot," he's told him before, but Saihara senses that he's lying.

"Are you ready? Let's go."

Saihara takes his hand as they head out the door.

 

* * *

 

On the street, sometimes people stop and stare.

Even after all he does, Kiibo still stands out. With impossibly white skin and strange blue eyes, Saihara's not surprised they'd notice him.

But... that's only one reason.

"Saihara... why do people look at us like that? Can they tell?" About me, he means. Can they see I'm not like them?

"Well," he sweats (even in the cool spring air) as he says it, "no."

"That's not why they're looking."

He explains, in a low voice, that, usually, when people date, it's a guy and a girl. Since they're not, since they're different... people notice.

"Ah..." His eyes darken. "So this is wrong?"

Saihara breathes up into the sky. It really is a beautiful day, but the mood around them now has a bitter taste.

"Does it bother you?" He tightens his hold on the other boy's hand, feeling the metal under the glove bite into his own skin at the pressure, unyielding.

"No. I don't care."

He says it so easily, carelessly, like it doesn't matter at all.

"Eh?" That's definitely not the answer he'd expected.

"...I only care about you, Saihara."

When he looks back down, Kiibo is smiling, looking over at him. There's a fondness in his gaze that makes Saihara feel like he has to look away, but he doesn't.

"...does it bother you?"

"...a little," he admits. He doesn't like to stand out.

"It shouldn't."

Again, he makes it sound so simple. But... he supposes Kiibo would be used to being seen as different, someone not quite equal.

He used to think the way the other boy would talk about discrimination was funny, until he saw the way their other classmates would treat him. Like he wasn't a person at all.

"You know, you're right."

They keep walking.


	8. 8. stargaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out on the rooftop.

The wind bites into Saihara's skin, and he breathes hot breath into his hands to try to warm them up. It's futile. _I really should've brought gloves_ , he thinks, looking up into the sky. _At least it's a beautiful night._

The stars are bright today, and color everything a soft, ethereal white. It almost makes it feel like he's stepped out of reality. Up here, he feels almost like he can see forever.

"What are you doing, Saihara?" Kiibo's looking at him curiously, strangely intent on watching him holding his hands up to his face.

"It's cold tonight." Saihara squints. "Don't you feel it, Kiibo?" Maybe he couldn't. He didn't seem like he was affected. The thought comes to him that he doesn't really know how Kiibo felt things. How strange...

"Ah... I can sense variations in temperatures, but, I don't really experience it the same way." There's concern in his eyes. "But, cold weather isn't good for humans, right?" It could be painful, even deadly, he knew from what information he had stored in his databanks. "Should we really be up here? Should we go back inside?" Going up to the rooftops after dark was against the school rules, too, but he felt like it would be the wrong time to mention that.

"It's okay." Saihara smiles. "I told you I would take you stargazing. Besides, it's not that cold." He laughs as he shivers.

So maybe he was lying. 

"You've never done this before, huh? What do you think?" He turns his gaze back up to the sky and Kiibo follows, staring up at those bright, scattered lights. He can't say he entirely gets the appeal, but...

"I can't spend too much time in the sun, but, this sort of light is almost like it... I almost feel like I can understand why people would sunbathe." He narrows his eyes and Saihara can almost hear the calculations running through his mind. "But the atmosphere is different. It's—"

He pauses, silent, not really sure what word to use.

"—peaceful?"

Hmm.

"Yes." That was a good word for the sort of mood this setting gave off. Peaceful. Relaxing. _Maybe this is what a dream would feel like._

"That's why I like coming up here. It's quiet. It's a good place to think."

_So what are you thinking about?_

"...do friends do things like this often?" Kiibo sounds troubled. He didn't have a lot of friends, so... was he supposed to have been inviting people to do things like this? It seemed like kind of a strange activity. Just going out to look at the sky in the middle of the night?

"Well... they can. But," Saihara coughs conspiciously (oh no, Kiibo knew they shouldn't have stayed out when it was so obvious Saihara was cold and just enduring it for him—), "This... was supposed to be a date."

Oh. Um. Kiibo blushes. "U-um, s-sorry, Saihara!"

"...no, it's okay. I must've read the situation wrong." He laughs to himself, low and gentle. Even in a situation like this, he can't bring himself to feel too bad when he's out here. It's just too nice a night. Even if it does feel a little sad now.

"Well! No! I want it to be a date!" His words trip over each other into a jumbled mess, but Saihara gets the gist. "I, I just—, I didn't know! Aaaah!"

"That's okay. It's a date, then." Make it simple.

"W-what am I supposed to do? I've never gone on a date before..."

"Well," Saihara says, scooting closer to Kiibo until their shoulders nearly touch, "just be yourself. It's a date, so it's a date."

"You don't have to be nervous, Kiibo. It's just me," he says. His smile is kind. _It's a nice smile._

He's silent for a bit. It's just Saihara, but, maybe it was _because_ it was just Saihara that made it so difficult. It's hard to believe he accidentally agreed to his first date ever. It's hard to believe he's on his first date ever, right now.

Saihara sneezes. "Sorry, Kiibo. Maybe it is a bit cold." His smile turns sheepish.

"I want to stay out here longer, though. So don't try to tell me to go back inside."

"...if you're cold, I can warm you up." His blush deepens, though he's not sure exactly why.

"What?"

"My body is heated."

"...what are you saying?" Saihara's expression is... weird, and his face is kind of red. Why? Is he saying something strange?

"If I put my arm around you, I can keep you warm. I have a heater built into me," he explains thoroughly. "Is it okay?"

Ah. That made more sense.

"Sure." He leans in towards Kiibo, side to side, so close his head almost comes to rest on his shoulder.

"G-guuah—!"

"K-Kiibo? Are you okay?!"

"Y-yeah." He hadn't expected the touch to feel like that. But it had felt nice.

Slowly, nervously, he lifts his arm, moves it behind Saihara's back, wraps it around Saihara so, so, so slowly, so gingerly... and stays.

"It's... warm."

Saihara breathes slowly in the cool air, and they watch the stars together.


	9. 9. piano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the title.

His fingers move across the piano keys clumsily. When he presses down, it feels like he hits the wrong note every time.

_Clair de Lune._

Maybe he's starting this off the wrong way. He hasn't tried to learn the scales, or the keys, or, actually, anything at all. He had ended up here by chance, passing by, he couldn't stop himself from going in.

And here he was, seated at a piano bench, _her piano bench_ , trying to play the piano.

He stares at the sheet music numbly, without comprehension. Maybe if he stayed here long enough it would all start making sense.

"Saihara?" There's a voice from out the hall.

"Kiibo?"

He turns away and makes to get up, not wanting to be caught, but it's too late. Kiibo stands in the doorway, watching him.

"What are you doing?"

"I... was trying to play the piano."

"Oh." Kiibo seems to consider it. "Did you need help? It wasn't very good."

"..." He wasn't wrong, but... it was still kind of rude. Saihara just stares at him and he seems to wilt.

"D-did I say something wrong? I was just trying to offer my assistance..."

Well, he was a robot, after all. Maybe he didn't mean it that way.

"Do you know how to play the piano, Kiibo?"

"I am not highly skilled, but I can teach you the basics!" He puffs his chest out in pride and sits himself down at the bench before Saihara can even respond.

_I... didn't exactly say yes._

But it's not like he's going to tell him no, not now. Kiibo seems way too excited about this for him to have the heart to disappoint him.

"So, you were trying to play Clair de Lune?"

"How could you tell?" He knows it sounded nothing like it.

"The sheet music!" He laughs, tapping at the paper in front of them. It's a weird sound, but cheerful.

"...was that a joke?"

"Huh? No!"

 

* * *

 

They end up staying there for a few hours. He actually has fun. Kiibo doesn't make bad company, though he's awkward at times.

True to his word, he does teach him the basics. It's enough that, at the end, he can slowly tap out the melody from memory.

That's enough for him. He'll practice.


	10. 10. hair

Saihara's hair is soft and dark and beautiful.  
Kiibo loves to run his fingers through it, winding the strands, silklike, around the grooves in the joints of his fingers. He loves the feel of it. Saihara doesn't like it when he does this (and for good reason, he's gotten it caught before, to Saihara's pain and his own embarrassment as he tries to untangle things without tearing anything out), but sometimes he does it anyway, and sometimes Saihara lets him.  
He always looks embarrassed about it when Kiibo plays with his hair like this, eyes averted, face red, but he likes it anyway. It feels... nice.

Kiibo takes care of his hair now. Though he had refused at first, as usual for them when it came to their disagreements on things like this, Kiibo had won out in the end. "It's because I love you," his voice hums cheerily, though he's never actually said that. They just both know it's why.

He closes his eyes into fingers massaging into his scalp and then warm water washing away soap, relaxes into a comb pulled through his hair gently, with care. He's come to appreciate it. It's a good time for him to think about things...

Like how, even though he should be used to it by now, he still can't get over Kiibo having a blow dryer built into his mouth.


	11. 11. question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiibo asks a question.

"...is this love?"

It's a wonder. His blue eyes shake like he's about to cry (but Saihara knows that he can't).  
Can a robot love? ...or is it as fake as the way his eyes tremble? Just a simulacrum of an impossibility? How real is Kiibo, anyway?  
Saihara doesn't answer. He just looks at him with darkened eyes, stark silence between them in the wake of the question.

He had asked him months ago. Not this question; it something else. "I want to understand love."  
"Could you teach me?"

"It couldn't have been just anybody," he had said to his initial uncertainty and, in the end, he had agreed.

He wasn't sure why, exactly. He hadn't felt anything romantic for Kiibo then.

Was it just curiosity? Could a robot feel? He had always chased knowledge, lost in books and information. While other people created friendships and relationships around him, he'd always been alone. Is that why he'd agreed? To be in a relationship with something that wasn't even human. Wasn't even alive, really. Just an object running through pre-programmed lines, powered by electricity.

(It hurts him to think of it (/him/) that way, but the cruel cold part of his mind tells him, "be logical".)

"I don't know, he says, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was going to be fluff and then it was not.


	12. 12. scenario

Saihara.  
He loves the name. He draws little hearts around it when he daydreams during class. Saihara. He encircles it in a heart. Saihara. He sighs and looks out the window. Saihara.

Except that he doesn't.  
But should he?  
He runs through his data again. Shoujo manga after datesim after romance novel run through his mind, pictures slowly stacking up into something larger, something he wants more than anything: love.

Not that he knows what love is. He can't say for sure that he _knows_ any emotion at all, only that he can recognize it, can perform it, but when it comes to love, it's beyond him to do even that.

He knows he's supposed to be a self-learning AI, the most advanced possible, almost indistinguishable from a human (well, most of the time), but can he feel love? Professor Iidabashi had loved but not romantically, and he knew he had been brought into being for his loneliness as much as he had been for science. Could a man who had no love create a mind that could feel it?

He ponders the question but also not really. He's more distracted thinking about Saihara.

Saihara has been in his thoughts a lot lately.  
At first he had assumed it had been some kind of error, some sort of fault in the routing of his memory, but careful examination found nothing wrong, physically. He was fine.

Then what was the problem?


	13. 13. audience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **IT'S SPOILERS**

_Hold his hand._

You hold it. It's warm and so small in your grip. His skin is soft and so pale you can see the blue tracing of veins running beneath it. His fingers are long and elegant; doubtless much more graceful than yours.

_Tell him you love him._

You do. "I... I love you, Saihara."

(Though you hesitate. It's okay. It's just nerves.)

Take in his smile, the way it lifts up the corners of his eyes. The flush of his cheeks, how it lights up his face. He's happy. _Look closer! **CLOSER!**_

"I love you, too."

_You love him. You love him. You love him._

That's what the voice tells you. You trust it. It... understands you. It has never lead you wrong, and, so, you know you do, you know you love him.

You save the memory, but you never mention it. You don't remember it. That's alright. You weren't supposed to. You weren't supposed to save it, either, but-

It doesn't matter. You don't remember.

Not until that final night, when their antenna breaks off - and then it didn't matter anymore, not at that point (but it leads you to give him that chance, not that you believe he could, really, but) - but, still, what you never knew-

(old newspapers emblazoned with headlines, announcements, news on the newest and greatest **DANGANRONPA, SEASON 53** )

**THE WORLD LOVES SAIHARA SHUUICHI**

(But did you?)


End file.
